


And FYI, I wanna F your A

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bad Pick-Up Lines, First Dates, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nervousness, Overparenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Willy and Toki date. Dick and Abigail have a bet. Shenanigans ensue.





	And FYI, I wanna F your A

It began with a bet.

Abigail had been serving Toki romantic advice, to varying degrees of success. Toki was oblivious, and his  _catch of the day_ Murderface was even moreso. Of course it was sad, the poor kid wasn't able to believe that someone  _would_ ever like him. And yet, so infuriating. Dick had seen it firsthand, as Murderface was basically his best friend, the dumb bastard came to him constantly with rants to go on about his insanely obvious crush.

Pickles threw a wrench in the machine, finally forcing Murderface to confess his crush at breakfast one morning. In a more uncertain world, that'd probably have been a bad move, but nobody was shocked when Toki responded with an elated "I loves you too!" Dick offered the two a golf-clap as they immediately organized a date at a fancy restaurant.

And that was that. Toki and Murderface spent the rest of the day innocently yet obnoxiously engaging in PDA, loudly choosing names for their future "children" (AKA cats), and so on and so forth. And yet, Murderface was still, clearly, the same gross pig-man he always was. Dick noted some point where Toki playfully smacked Murderface's ass, only for the bassist to, in a state of shock, fart directly on Toki's hand. 

If it weren't for Dick's lone-wolf personality, he'd be highly offended that William Murderface got a boyfriend before him.

"Their first date's tomorrow." Abigail spoke through a mouthful of buttermilk pancakes, which Dick had ordered an enormous stack of at the local IHOP. "I anticipate it going really fucking badly. Will is, like... about as romantically compelling as Jason Voorhees."

Dick blinked. (As much as he could.)

"He's just awkward. I think Toki's into that."

"Sure he is, to a  _point_." She opened a nearby syrup packet, pouring it directly into her mouth, while the pancake bits were still in it. Nasty, but... clever. "I saw the look in his eyes when Will knocked over his succulent... dog... pot thing. He was  _pissed._ "

"The fact that Willy survived that at all is proof of true love."

"Sure it is." Abigail took a sip of her coffee. Black, like her soul! Dick preferred his very un-black... not like his soul at all, really. "Anyway, I'm prepared to perform damage control when the whole thing goes up in flames."

"I think it'll be fine."

"Really, now."

"Yeah. I'd bet on it." The words just kind of flew out. Abigail paused shoveling pancakes into her mouth to quirk a brow.

"You'd  _bet?"_

"Yeah." His voice wavered.

"Well you know I was a bit of a gambler in my late twenties."

"You told me you had a gambling  _problem_."

"What? No, that wasn't me. Your memory sucks." She cleared her throat. Dick could honestly give or take her claim. "Action's on you." 

"...I'll bet twenty dollars."

"I raise you thirty."

"Uh, I call."

"Seriously?" Abigail quirked a brow. "I took you as someone with a higher bankroll than that."

"...Fifty."

"I raise you eighty."

This woman was a fucking maniac.

"E-eighty five?"

"One-hundred."

"Can I fold?"

"No." She grinned. God, this fucking... "Unless you're willing to admit I'm right." But Dick would rather die than admit Abigail's rightness, especially when it came to the subject of his best friend William Murderface. 

"I RAISE YOU  _ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY."_

Dick slammed his palms on the table, shaking the pancakes a little. Abigail was shocked for a second.

"...You know, if I liked men, we'd be perfect for each other." She rose a hand. "One-fifty it is then. Waiter!"

Dick swallowed. "Also, you're paying."

"I mean, between you and me,  _Charles_ is paying..."

"Fair point."

-

"I'm not wearing that."

Dick rose a brow to the statement.

"Why not? It's covered in glitter, he'll be immediately enthralled by your sparkle suit!"

"I don't wanna look like schome dischco homo."

"You're at least one half of that."

"I hate dischco-- Oh! I get it!... Fuck you." Murderface spat. "I'm not wearin' that."

"Well you can't wear your regular clothes."

 _"I know that!"_ He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "I ain't wearin' full-length pantsch. I hate pantsch."

"Pants look nicer."

"You'd look nischer with your fasche-schkin torn up and glued to the wall." Dick took the threat to heart when Murderface drew his knife, and shoved his dependable glitz tux back into his walk-in closet. "Can't I go in there and schee what you have myschelf?"

"I don't trust you touching my shit."

"Fuck you, you're being inschubordinate! I'll tell Abigail!"

"Who's getting help from who in this situation? Huh? You're getting my help, I don't have to help."

"Yesch you do. I'm paying you."

Fuck. He was right.

"...Go ahead,  _sir._ "

"Oh god, don't schtart callin' me schir."

"Would you like some  _caaaaaviaaaaaar?_ " 

"No! I hate caviar!" Murderface swore under his breath, shoving past Dick and into his walk-in. "Jeschusch, thisch schtuff isch all gonna blind him."

"It was the 70's, everyone was wearing it."

"Why wasch everyone scho schtupid when I wasch a baby." Murderface let out a sharp exhale from his nose, puffing like a fighting bull. He hastily latched onto something. "What'sch thisch. Tell me. Dick. Tell me. Tell--"

"Shush, man. It's a pantsuit."

"Pantsch schuit?"

"No, it's one word. Pantsuit."

"Pantschuit."

It was tight. Dark blue, and short-sleeved, with a ruffled v-neck that ran deep into the breasts. It then loosened around the legs into a sort of bell bottom-shape. 

"Back from my, eh,  _crossdressing days_."

"I'm not schurprisched at all." Murderface grabbed it. "I want it."

"I dunno if you'll fit, Willy."

"Then fucking make modificationsch!"

"I thought you hated pants!"

"Thesche look fucking comfy, okay?!"

" _They are comfy._ "

"I wanna wear iiittttt..."

"I'll figure something out, okay? Just fucking chill."

"I want your weird dischco shoesch too."

"I thought you hated disco!"

"I  _LIED!_ "

"Okay, okay, just chill. Chill out! Lemme make some calls. Get outta here!"

Dick slammed a book in Murderface's hands. It was a personal favorite, titled  _The Sexy Dildohead's Guide to Getting Laid_. It always worked on drunk girls in Dick's experience, and Toki was kind of like a drunk toddler sometimes, so it'd be close enough. Plus it had some great pick-up lines in it. "Now go! Prepare for your blowjob, you animal!"

"Okay! Okay! Jeesch!"

Dick isolated himself in his walk-in closet for awhile.

-

Dick made sure Murderface knew all the beats. He got two dinner reservations, one for Murderface and his  _beau_ , and another for... well, for him and Abigail to make sure nothing went wrong. He borrowed a DethLimo for Murderface to show up in. As soon as the kid was gone, he rung up an uber.

They grabbed their table, a few feet away from where Toki was sitting. He'd shown up in a tux. _Hopefully Willy wasn't overdressed._ They were definitely aiming for different styles, weren't they. The DethLimo pulled in.

"Ah yes, the old 'stepping out of a limo while sexy music plays' trick."

"It works for me when I don't try it on you."

"It's your fault I'm gay."

"Wait," Dick balked a bit. "really?" Abigail didn't give him a response. 

Murderface stepped out. Normally Dick would take off points for his choice of music being Eminem and Nate Dogg's  _Shake That_ , but he'd give it a pass since ol' Willy looked like a million bucks. (Or rather, the hundred-fifty bucks he'd be winning by the end of tonight.)

"Did you do his make-up?"

"No."

"He looks like Divine. I'm into it."

"Might wanna just pay me up-front, sweetheart."

Abigail curled her upper lip.

"You're such a... a _dick._ "

_"Hello Williams. You looks goods."_

"Shit, the transmission!"

The two staff workers leaned in close to the small speaker they were sharing, connected to a lav mic that was cleverly clipped onto the bottom of the table. It connected via Wi-Fi. This was a super serious operation.

_"Thanksch."_

Dick reached into his murse (man purse) and pulled out a set of binoculars... and then passed them to Abigail. His eyes already have a zoom function, fool! "Looks like Toki's taking it. And Iiiiii'm taking my money--"

"Don't make me kick you in your tiny pasty balls."

"Okay then."

Toki pulled a chair out for Murderface. Shit. The chair maneuver. In a confusion, Murderface pulled out the opposing chair for Toki. They stared in silence before Murderface took his seat, flustered and embarrassed. Their waiter came around, remarking how beautiful  _Toki_ looked, which Dick found mildly offensive, gave them both their menus, and fucked off. William hid his face behind the menu to hastily adjust his make-up. It was clear he'd done his own make-up before. God only knows why.

_"Toki."_

He lowered the menu.  _"You ain't a vegan, right."_

_"Huh? Nos."_

_"Thasch good."_

_"Why?"_

_"Uh. I really like meat."_ Murderface looked at his phone. Did he... write pick-up lines in his notes? Dick was weirdly proud.  _"Alscho 'causche I want you to eat mine."_

_"Youse whats?"_

...fuck.

"Oooh, cucked by a language barrier. Tough luck, Knubbler."

"The evolution of language can't fuck my metaphorical wife and you know it."

_"My meat. Like- you know."_

_"De sausage?"_

_"Yeah. Like my..."_

_"I loves sausage festival. Likes de one in Vienna."_

_"...like my ding-dong."_

_"...Ooohhhhhhhh! Tokis gets it!"_ Another pause.  _"Why you wants me to eats it?"_

_"Like to schuck it."_

_"Oh. Likes blowjobs."_

Dick looked up for a moment to order himself a glass of straight vodka. As soon as it showed up, he rimmed the glass with cocaine. His body was probably just as fucked as Pickles' was after years of drug abuse, so this was his equivalent to drinking some calming sweet tea. Abigail got herself some beer. The waiter took to the TOI (Table Of Interest). Murderface proceeded to order a merlot, but pronounced like a parking lot for mermaids.  _Mer Lot._ Abigail cringed a bit when he said it. But Dick felt he got the points back when Toki made an offhanded comment about the French language being "stupids crappy bullshits".

_"Scho what'sch your schign."_

_"...Williams, you knows dis."_

_"No I actually don't, I can't... I don't know what order the thingsch go in..."_

_"I's an Aquariums"_

_"Oh!... thasch cool."_ Pause.  _"Whasch that mean."_ Dick groaned a little. He should've just left out  _The_ _Sex Zodiac_ on the reading list, it's only useful for picking up chicks at the bar. 

_"I dunnos. What's you's signs?"_

_"Schtop."_

_"Oh, sorries."_

_"No, thasch my schign."_

_"Stops?"_

_"Schtop schign."_

_"Oh... sorries."_

_"Isch- I wasch- No!"_

_"Oh. What's you's signs?"_

_"...Ariesch."_ Murderface sounded ragged as all hell after two failed jokes. Dick had heard humor in Europe was very different from humor in America. But also he'd heard Toki barely spoke Norwegian or English. Murderface took an inelegant slurp of his wine as soon as it arrived.  _"...Ooh, they have schnailsch."_

"Oh dear god don't get snails."

"No, don't say anything, I wanna see where this is going." Abigail looked like a young child in front of a TV. 

_"Toki, what d'you want."_

_"Uuuhhhmmmssss..."_ Toki licked his lip a bit. Was he... writing something?  _"Hold ooonnnssss..."_

_"Toki. Toki?"_

_"I's makin's a DRAWINGS for de WAITERS!"_

_"Schorry! Schorry."_

Toki paused, lowering his random crayon down for a moment. Did he just carry those around?

 _"...Oh, I gets it, like... like meats ams you's ding-dongs! Aha!"_ Toki began to laugh. Murderface blinked.  _"Moiderface, why ams you so funnies?!"_

_"Uh... geneticsch? Anyway, wha- what do you wanna order."_

_"Where ams de desserts."_

_"You get desschert after dinner."_

_"...Damns it. I wants de foy groys!"_

_"I believe thasch pronounsched 'fwah grah'."_

_"How comes you knows how to reads dat, but not merlots?... Also dat don'ts actually says snails."_

Murderface stared at the letters for a moment. Dyslexia was such a devil. However, in this case, the menu actually said "PLEASE DON'T ASK FOR SNAILS", so it was really more of a case of "focusing in on one word and ignoring all the other ones". Murderface pouted.

_"Lamby chopsch then."_

"No, Willy, what if he's vegan..."

"He's not vegan." Abigail spoke flatly. "We all know this."

"...Yeah."

Murderface reached outward, nervously grabbing their waiter by the back of his collar. The younger man shot up, saying 'What is it' with more venom than nine-hundred cobras. Murderface tentatively asked for their food, and the waiter snatched their menus, leaving Murderface with nothing to hide his blushing cheeks behind. 

_"So whats you likes to do."_

_"Uh."_

Dick grinned. This was the perfect chance to slip in a good pick-up line.  _"I like moviesch and bassch... playing... buh..."_ But a pick-up line always fails if you fucking stutter. Man! Toki stared at Murderface like he was a fish with legs, or he'd grown a third eye or something.  _"...yeah."_

 _"...Well I likes playin's guitars, kitties, and cartoons, but Tokis favorites hobbies ams makin's you blush."_ Shit! A counteraction! Murderface was dead in the water.

_"Wow! That- that'sch my favorite hobby too!"_

_"...You's favorite hobbies ams makins you-selfs blush?"_

_"I... wh- no! It'sch... you... FUCK!"_

_"Oh you likes to fuck! I likes dat too actuallies. T'anks for remindin's mes!"_

Dick took a sip of his vodka, watching as Murderface nervously pulled the ice cubes from his glass of water and chewed on them. Despite being dressed to kill, the poor kid looked like he wanted to curl up in a hole and die. 

_"...You like pogsch."_

No, don't.

_"I don'ts know what dat ams."_

_"Well, uh, you get a bunch of thesche thingsch, called pogsch, and- and you schtack 'em fasche-down, an' then you throw your schlammer and whichever onesch land fasche-up you keep. And when there'sch none left, whoever hasch the moscht winsch."_

_"...Amen'ts dat just gamblins?"_

_"I... not unlessch you play for keepschiesch. But isch all physchicsch, yuh juscht gotta figure out the angle of your dangle, y'know? I'm really good at it."_

_"Wheres you get pogs?"_

_"...They don't make 'em anymore, I don't think, scho I guessch Ebay."_

_"Sounds... Kinda dumbs."_

_"Isch not dumb, isch cool."_

_"Cans you shows me laters?"_

_"I, uh, I would but I ain't got nobody to play with."_

_"I plays wit' yous, stupids."_

_"Oh! Hehe... Uh, 'kay."_

Well, who says pogs are a bad conversation topic on a date?... Dick would say so, but at the very least Toki'd never heard of them. That was lucky... actually, it made sense. No luck involved. Maybe Murderface knew?... Probably not. Abigail appeared dumbfounded. Clearly if this were her date, this would be the point where she'd leave.

"Looks like things are turning in my favor."

"All they did was talk about pogs, Dick."

"My faaaavooorrrrrr..."

"Shut up."

Their food was showing up. Murderface never believed in cutting most if any meat products. Dick almost wanted to run and hide, catching people staring at the way the bassist tore into meat with his jagged teeth like an animal. Many would argue that William Murderface was the closest living example to prehistoric man, a claim Dick had no issue believing. Toki was far more delicate. He'd always said that the three things his parents put above all else were hard work, obedience and good manners. It wasn't a shock that his table etiquette was impeccable.

_"You's gots meat juice all over you's face."_

_"Uh,"_ Murderface looked confused for a moment. Toki reached over, gently wiping his face.  _"Toki! My make-up!"_

_"Doesn'ts you use settin's sprays?"_

Dick nearly spat his drink.

"Toki knows his make-up, apparently." Abigail snorted a bit, staring at her gel-manicured nails. "Minus ten points, Murderface."

"Not  _ten points!_ That's a lot of points!"

"Five."

"One."

"Four."

"Two?"

"Ten."

"Dammit!" Dick slammed his fist on the table. 

"You're squirming, Richard."

Where did she even get the right...? Dick scowled, seating himself as Abigail reapplied her lipstick. She'd added like, ten coats of lipstick by now, just to have something to do with her hands.

_"Bwuh, it schmeared."_

_"Ams fines, you looks good either ways."_

_"I-I mean, I'm... I... thank..."_

_"Welcomes."_

Murderface shook, glass in hand, taking a sip of his wine before resuming the violent destruction of the lamb chops set before him. Dick was glad he was not that sheep. Frankly, he'd prefer a deeply objectionable act of necrophilia to be acted upon his tiny, wooly body. And yet, Toki was watching intently. Murderface didn't notice until Toki made a little noise. With a mouthful of rare meat, the bassist spoke.

_"Wuh?"_

_"Oh, nothin's, just... you's real cutes."  
_

_"C... cute?"_

_"You's cutes when you eats."_

Suddenly, Murderface shot upwards. The table shook, and everything moved in slow motion. The glass of merlot tipped off of the table, and broke on the chair. Red wine splashed everywhere. On the tablecloth, the floor, mostly on Murderface's crotch. There was a second of silence as Murderface shifted, looking like he'd pissed blood and shards of glass. Toki stood apprehensively with a napkin. Wait, no. Shit. Oh god. 

Tenderly, Toki dabbed the napkin along the red crotch stain. Murderface made a whistling snort from his nose, shoulders rigid.

_"Toki, isch fine--"_

_"It can'ts be comfortables."_

_"Toki,"_

His voice wheezed audibly. Frankly, Dick didn't need technologically enhanced eyesight to know what was happening.

_"Oh!"_

_"Yeah, uh..."_

_"Oh, likes a stops signs on de roads! It ams words-plays!"_

_"T-toki, we should--"_

_"I gets it now."_

_"TOKI, I HAVE A BONER."_

It was loud enough for Dick to hear in real life. Attention was all directed at the table of the two lovers. Abigail quirked a brow.

"Gimme my money."

"Hold on," Dick rolled up his sleeves. Dammit, he was gonna win this bet even if it killed him. He'd distract them in the only way he knew how! From the second floor balcony, he took a step onto the railing and threw himself off, looking like a skinny, ugly bird for a good moment. And down, and down, and down. He found himself hastily getting closer to the table of two horrified old people before landing, getting champagne glass shards in his chest.

The restaurant was frantic, making sure he was okay. Looking across the room, he found Murderface and Toki slowly shuffling out now that the gazes had shifted. Blood was coming out of his nose. Hastily, Abigail descended the stairs, approaching him. Her eyes were wide.

"Holy shit, are you crazy?"

"Can you gimme my hundred fifty dollars at the hospital, I think I stabbed an artery."

"I-" Too dumbfounded to argue, she nodded. "Fine. Whatever." 

She dragged him off the table and called up a chauffeur. While waiting on the sidewalk, she reached for her wallet.


End file.
